


Scent of Rain

by tcheschire



Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Reader-Insert, implied past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcheschire/pseuds/tcheschire
Summary: The revolution has been over for so long, but rolling in with the stormclouds is a reminder of a past you had tried to put behind you. Thankfully, he wants the past to stay where it lie just as much as you do.Tumblr request
Relationships: Himura Kenshin/Reader
Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933819
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Scent of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to go ahead and post some of the requests that I've done for my imagines blog on Tumblr.
> 
> The request for this one was: _"Totally fine if you don't do this - but I was hoping to request something with Kenshin Himura x Reader? Something fluffy because I'm a sucker - maybe they both fought together and reunite and grow feelings for each other? I personally (and this is probably a really unpopular opinion) don't really dig Kenshin and Kaoru. Totally fine if not!"_

Not all memories from the revolution drew the smell of blood to his nose. Some stank of sake and sweat, some of salt and heat, and some of the _hakubaikou_ perfume that he could never forget. They hit him apropos of nothing, and neither dark of night nor the sun high in the sky could stop them, and he would once again be transported back to Kyoto.

The earth crunched beneath his sandals as he moved. Another town along the long road he had set for himself, full of the bright, innocent faces that he had fought so hard for. When his stomach groaned, he realized how long it had been since he had eaten a proper meal; perhaps the village would have some odd job he could do to pay for a trip to the market.

He sought out the nearest roadside stall, intent to ask around, but he had barely raised the hat from his face before he met a pair of very familiar eyes.

And then he smelled petrichor.

You smiled in time with the crack of thunder, and Kenshin was jolted, back to Kyoto, back to the nights where it blood streamed in the streets and the rain would come to wash it away.

Rather than keeping the standoff, letting the past wash over you, you opted to break the silence first. “Imagine that,” you said softly, not glancing at the other patrons, though you knew both of you were highly aware of them. “I manage to hide myself in the absolute middle of no where, and I still run into none other than Himura Battousai himself.”

His eyes flashed, briefly, and in that moment it was though you were both there again – but he blinked, and the look was gone. “I do not go by that name anymore,” he replied quietly, “that I do not.”

“No, I can’t imagine you do. It’s a different time. What does someone like you do after something like that?” You nodded towards the scabbard at his hip. “I see you still carry a blade on you.”

Kenshin raised his hands, waving them in front of himself in a gesture of peace. “Only a sakabatou. Another life will not be taken by my hands.”

“‘ _Sessha_ ’? You have changed.”

A gentle smile ghosted across his lips. “So have you.”

You laughed and commiserated with him, this once-distant presence. You had done your share for the Choushuu, spying here and there, carrying missives, even preparing a safehouse or two, but nothing compared to a _hitokiri_. And in that timeframe, you had seen him – not just as the tool of the Ishin Shishi, but as the man that he was.

You purchased a meal for him in exchange for telling you what had happened to him after the revolution – and he did, haltingly, emphasizing that he was a traveler now – and took pity on him, allowing him to do some odd jobs around your house: repairing the gate, tilling the garden, and you even had a good laugh as you sent him to collect honeycomb. Rubbing a balm on the few stings he received, you gave him some coin and a futon, letting him know he was welcome to stay in your home as long as he wanted.

It seemed so easy for him to integrate into a peaceful civilian life, proactively washing and hanging the laundry and cleaning about the house as though he had been doing it for years, and you almost would have forgotten your shared history if it hadn’t been for the moments late at night when you caught him over the washbasin, scrubbing his hands in the moonlight.

It was an easy rhythm you found with him, over the next several days, so much so that his departure came as a shock. He had let you know that he was leaving the night before, and even a note, but upon waking you still felt a tug in your chest.

It was amazing, but in the weeks that followed, you found yourself listening for the now familiar laugh, the gentle and distinctive exclamation he made, and on more than one occasion you caught yourself seeking out the soft lavender of his eyes.

You smelled rather than heard the storm coming, and jumped out from underneath the kotatsu, making a mad dash out the door to collect the laundry you had put out to dry. You snatched linens and yukata from the lines, already feeling the first young droplets hitting your scalp and sliding down your neck. Reaching for one, you tugged, faintly registering the _snap_ of the clothespins as you froze, your eyes alighting on the approaching figure.

He stopped several feet from you and just as before you broke the silence first. “You’re back.”

The thought brought a laugh from him, his eyes squinting shut, and Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck abashedly. “Ahh, yes, that I am. I was hoping,” he paused, raising his eyes to yours, the lavender blending in with the grey of the sky above, “I was hoping that it would be all right.”

“It is. Only…”

“Oro?”

You closed the gap between you, depositing your now sopping linens in his arms. “I need you to help me bring the laundry in.”

“I can do that, that I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're feeling it, come find me on Tumblr! I can be found at my writing blog [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) or you can shoot me a request at [tcheschireimagines](https://tcheschireimagines.tumblr.com).


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